Crazy Random Happenstance
by Penny Cork
Summary: Annie's having a bad day, and only yelling at a drunk will make her feel better. This one's a bit weird, so please see inside for details.
1. Ben

**AN: Before you hunt me down and kill me because a) I should be working on Eritrea not some dumb three-part oneshot, b) I've put Ben in here (just when you thought you were finally rid of him), or c) you're a psycho who feels it's time to kill someone, please let me explain. I'm a bit stuck on Eritrea because I want to send Annie on a mission and am not quite sure how to write that. I apologize profusely for the wait. Now, I'll try to explain this strange creation. This random scene popped into my head the other day: a woman rejects a man who calls her hot only to impress another (way cooler) man. After enough sleep deprivation, I got the crazy idea to turn the scene into an AU Covert Affairs fic (featuring, of course, Annie and Auggie). However, the first thing I found myself writing was actually a oneshot with Ben and Annie. A little angry at Ben for forcing himself into an Annie/Auggie story, I wrote a second oneshot that obeyed my original intention. I like both, though. The first is a true Covert Affairs fic that tries to explain how Annie and Ben met (and why in the world she might have liked him to begin with). The second is an AU fic that tries not to stray to far from the Covert Affairs universe. So you get two very different fics that revolve around the same pivotal scene. Weird scheme, I know. Sorry for the obscenely long authors note! **

**PS: I don't own Covert Affairs, and the title is actually a line from Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog!**

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As she moped along the airy beachfront terrace, Annie Walker tried to guilt-trip herself into feeling better. She thought of Danielle who at this time on a Wednesday would probably be trying to wrestle her two daughters into bed for naptime; of her friends stuck behind desks, willing the clock to finally register lunchtime. They'd probably laugh at her and feel just a little bit affronted if they knew that she was miserable. Here she was at a beachfront resort in Arugam Bay without a care in the world: she'd just received her masters in Slavic language and culture, she already had inroads at a job with the Smithsonian, and she was only a week into a month long trip where her only responsibilities were to have as many adventures as possible. Yet Annie was having a crappy day.

She hated the stupid resort. It made her legs twitch and her brain melt. Annie's idea of travelling was to throw herself into the middle of a country and try as hard as she could to untangle the mess she made. Resorts were dumb. Instead of seeing Sri Lanka, she'd shut herself off from it in a sterile bubble of chlorinated pools and fruity martinis. The only reason she was here instead of holed up in some forgotten boarding house was that a friend of hers had cancelled her vacation plans and let Annie stay under her name for free. As a broke graduate student, Annie jumped at anything labeled free. Even though this trip was partially a gift from her obscenely generous grandparents, Annie still jumped at every opportunity to save money. But a three and a half days into her week-long stay, Annie was seriously considering running as far as she could get from this relaxing white cocoon.

In an attempt to dispel some of the nervous energy she knew would result in regrettable decisions, Annie gathered her purse and made her way downstairs to one of the many outdoor bars. She'd become a fixture in her three days here, mostly because the bartender, Paul Ranatunga, was the only friend she'd managed to make. He came from one of the tiny villages around Arugam Bay. His family was Muslim, and he'd joked with Annie that this made him the perfect candidate for a bartender because he would never be tempted to steal any of the alcohol. Annie had replied that she wasn't sure any sane person would want to steal the selection that the resort's bar had to offer, and she had spent the next hour sipping orange juice and making up back-stories with Paul for all the bar's patrons. She grinned and waved at him now as she wove around bathing-suited vacationers in various stages of drunkenness.

"Annie! You look even more bored than usual," he greeted her as she flopped down in her chair at the end of the bar.

"Yeah, I think Sonia was trying to kill me off when she gave me her place here. I feel like the only person on Circe's island who isn't enjoying the party."

"You're very melodramatic aren't you? I can assure you that I, at least, will not be turning anyone into pigs."

Annie half-raised her head from its place on the table to eye Paul. "How does someone who knows Greek mythology end up here of all places?"

"You think I'm here all the time? I just work evenings to pay for school. I'm studying theology in the city. For some reason, my parents don't want me to spend my entire life serving tourists martinis." He was too nice to reprimand her, but Annie could tell that he was kind of offended that she'd assumed he was fixture at the resort.

She sat up. "That, my friend, deserves a high five." She wasn't the sort to admit it, but she was ashamed that she'd been so quick to stereotype. Luckily for her pride, Paul just grinned, accepting her strange gesture as the apology it was.

"Speaking of, I actually have to go home early tonight. Exams start in two days. You want an orange juice before I take off?"

"Nah – I need a change today especially if I have nobody to rant to for the rest of the evening. Just make something delicious."

"Sure thing."

"And don't put any alcohol in. I don't want to deal with a hangover tomorrow."

Annie watched as Paul mixed juice from about ten different bottles, and accepted the pinky-orange liquid proffered.

"This is actually one of the best things I've ever tasted."

"You said to make something delicious."

Annie just took another sip, but then frowned, seeing that the concoction was already half gone.

"Please tell me your replacement also knows how to make this stuff."

"Yup – just ask for a Grapefruit Ambrosia."

"Apt name. Good luck studying, my friend."

"Have fun with your non-alcoholic drinking."

Annie turned to watch the martini-induced antics of the resort's dinner crowd. It was already almost nine, but people were only just showing up. There weren't that many entertaining drunks yet, so Annie made a quick trip back to her room to collect two Russian books she'd been meaning to read.

Two hundred pages and five Grapefruit Ambrosias later, Annie was feeling quite a lot better. If she couldn't escape to far-off countries in reality, she was always guaranteed adventures in a fictitious one. A tap on her shoulder brought her back to Earth, though. Looking in the direction of the tapping, Annie found herself staring at a youngish blonde man whom she guessed was Australian. When he spoke, his accent confirmed her guess. Annie did a mental happy-dance. She was getting good at guessing these things.

"Hi, sweetie, you're hot," the guy slurred at her. In her initial assessment, Annie hadn't realized quite how drunk he was. Her internal happy-dance turned into an outward eye roll. Not only was that the worst pickup line ever – even from a drunk guy – but he'd taken her away from an epic battle on the Russian Steppe just to tell her _that_?

"Excuse me?"

"I told you: you're hot!" he said again, sounding more than a little proud.

"I see," Annie folded her arms, gathering herself with a deep breath, "You know what I am buddy? I'm beautiful, intelligent, and strong. I can speak five languages and find my way around Bombai without a map. I've climbed a Mount Mckinley with a broken ankle and eaten ghost chilies in Thailand. You wanna know the best part? I'm taken," here Annie looked around wildly, pointing across the room at a random partygoer, "See that lovely lady over there? She's been my girlfriend for six months now, so I'm sorry but if the only word you can think to add to my list is _hot_ I'm pretty sure we're both wasting our time." With that, Annie spun back toward the bar, glancing over her shoulder at the retreating drunk who looked more than a little confused. Annie smirked into her drink. She'd been waiting a long time to do that. On a particularly boring Friday night, she and her roommate back home had written and rehearsed rejection speeches, but Annie had never gotten to use hers yet. The taken part was an inspired piece of improve, though. Annie was quite proud of it. She was just about to go back to her Russian battle when somebody else sat down in the chair next to her. She dearly wanted to just ignore him. What was this anyway? Hit on Annie night? But he didn't hit on her. He just ordered a drink from not-Paul and sat placidly, sipping away. Annie's curiosity got the best of her, and she glanced over. Her mental catalogue worked quickly: dark hair, medium height but stocky, mid to late twenties, and definitely not drunk. He was very average looking, but something about the way he sat made Annie's heart involuntarily beat faster. It sounded really weird, but Annie could tell just from the way he sat that this man didn't belong here. He looked like adventure: that was it, and suddenly Annie wanted to know all about him. He turned to face her, and Annie was thrown by his blue-gray eyes which were dancing with an impish smile.

"I know you're not gay," was the first thing he said to her. Annie folded her arms, more than a little put-off by his non-sequitur.

"That's the weirdest line I've ever heard."

The guy shook his head, and the smile in his eyes twitched to the rest of his face, "It's not a line – just an observation."

"People make the wrong observations all the time," Annie replied while mentally kicking herself. OK, the guy was a little weird, but she was attracted to him for some strange reason. Why was she pushing him away?

"Not me," he replied with a slight shake of the head.

"OK… sorry. I'm still on edge, I guess. This creepy Australian literally just tried to pick me up by telling me I was hot. Let's start over. I'm Annie Walker," she said, holding out her hand.

Her new friend shook her hand and chuckled, "I thought your reply was the coolest thing I've heard in a while," he paused, eyes twinkling, "even if it sounded a little rehearsed." His conversation was so natural, and for some reason Annie felt she could trust him. She cracked into a grin of her own, and covered her face in mock embarrassment saying, "I'm sorry! You must think I'm a cruel person. I swear I do other things with my free time than make up creative rejections."

"I can see that. You also pretend to read Russian novels about Nevsky's battle with the Mongols," he said, gesturing to Annie's forgotten book.

"I don't pretend, thank you very much!"

"No. Sorry. It's just been a while since I met someone who speaks Russian."

"You do I take it."

"Only partially. I speak fluent Tamil, though. I'm actually here teaching English."

Annie eyed him skeptically, "Why in the world are you _here_ then?"

The guy's eyes suddenly shifted, and Annie could've sworn he was giving himself a mental slap. But in the next second he was grinning again, and Annie didn't have time to think about it.

"Well I came here to rescue you of course."

"Yeah 'cause I totally look like a damsel in distress," Annie laughed, happy to play along with his flirting.

"Not really. But you do look really bored."

"Ah, so you thought that bombarding me with non-sequiturs and then insulting my choice of reading material would cheer me up," Annie said, folding her arms but smiling nonetheless.

"It's worked so far hasn't it?" Annie smiled. She had no idea who this guy was, but it was true that he'd managed to cheer her up in three short minutes of conversation. There was a comfortable pause as they both sipped their drinks.

Suddenly, her new friend turned toward her excitedly, "Hey, do you want to go on an adventure?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to say yes, but she paused for a second. Who the hell was this guy? He definitely wasn't one of the tourist crowd. Annie had ascertained that much. Why did she feel so drawn to him? That was easy – he'd just asked her on an adventure, and she'd been looking for any escape from this stupid resort. The harder question was: why did she trust him so fully? And should she?

He saw the hesitation in her face, but didn't urge her to come with him. He just waited, hopefully, eagerly. He looked kind of like a kid, and Annie decided that the chance for adventure was bigger than the risk of trusting a complete stranger.

"OK. But tell me your name first."

He smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, sorry. I've sort of been conditioned not to mention my name too quickly." Annie wondered why. Was he some sort of celebrity?

"I'm Ben Mercer, and I would very much like to go on an adventure with you, Annie Walker."

Annie took his proffered hand, and shook it enthusiastically, pulling them both up as she did so. They wove their way through the throng of people, but Annie stopped at the foot of the staircase.

"Wait, Ben. Are we coming back here?"

"Do you want to?"

Annie's stomach squirmed with excitement, "nope," she replied.

"Then go get your stuff, and we'll be off."

Five minutes later, Annie was checking out. Her heart was lighter than it had been in four days, and her toes tingled with excitement. She had no clue if following this Ben Mercer was a good idea or not, but she had a good feeling. She was finally going to throw herself into a country again, and she was fully prepared to untangle any mess she made in the process. At the last moment, she thought of something, and turned back to the check-out lady.

"Will you tell Paul that Annie wishes him good luck on his exams? And let him know I'm sorry that I couldn't tell him myself. I'm off on a crazy adventure."

"Sure," the lady replied, looking a little confused.

Annie turned away, and flew out the doors to where Ben was waiting. She grinned up at him like a crazy person, and took his hand as they waited for the bus that would begin their adventure.

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_**PS: Would you care to leave a review? You know you would! **_


	2. Auggie

**Auggie's part! **

**PS: I hope this reads OK. I'm not very good at integrating dialogue and story. I sort of get carried away on both ends, and you end up with chunks.**

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Annie Walker was having a crappy day. She'd been late to work because her piece-of-crap car had broken down right in the middle of DC traffic, Ben had called her at lunch asking her to look for some crap he'd left in her apartment, and her crappy laptop had crashed right before she finished a very important file on the Shang Dynasty jade that was to go on display at the Natural History Museum next week. All she wanted to do was go home to a pint of Ben and Jerry's chocolate fudge brownie, but even that wasn't going to happen. It was a Thursday, and her sister Danielle hosted dinner parties every Thursday. Not so bad, but she had recently begun using the time to set Annie up with blind (and invariably horrible) dates. It was stupid – Ben had only left her fourteen months ago. Well, fourteen months and twenty one days ago to be precise.

Annie glanced at her watch. 6:30. She probably didn't have any to waste, but she really needed some time alone before the dinner ordeal. If she was late, she could always blame her (now absent) car.

She walked the two familiar blocks, and pushed her way through the door to Adam's Tavern. Warm air and fairy lights danced around her as she entered and breathed in the tavern's familiar scent. She made her way to the back which opened onto a crowded courtyard. She loved this place. Clean, open, friendly-but-businesslike: just like its owner.

She knew Allen from her days at Georgetown, and could usually rely on him to save her a quiet spot off the corner of the bar. She was, after all, there when he christened it. She hadn't understood why he'd named it Adam's and not Allen's: he knew absolutely nobody called Adam. He'd told her that when he was little, he'd thought he'd marry an Adam. But since that didn't seem likely unless he moved to California, he'd have to be content naming his bar Adam.

Annie smiled, picking her friend out at his usual spot behind the bar. It was one of his eccentricities: no matter how popular his tavern became, Allen refused to give up bartending. Who was she to argue, though? He made amazing drinks.

"Hey Allen!" she yelled through the throng.

"Hey! My favorite Annie," he replied with enthusiasm. "Are you avoiding another one of your sister's dinners?"

"You know me well, my friend. I'm afraid she'll kill me, though, if I skip it. I'm just planning on being fashionably late."

"Well, stay as long as you need. Your spot's open." He pointed to a table just off the end of the bar.

"You're my savior," Annie called over her shoulder, already making her way over to the tiny wooden table. She flopped down into the seat, and let her head land on her arms. A waitress came round, and looked down at her sympathetically.

"Do you want anything, or should I just leave you in peace?"

"Just get me something delicious please. And no alcohol – I can't deal with a hangover tomorrow."

Annie felt the waitress move away, and a few minutes later, a perspiring glass of something cool touched her hand.

"Drink's at your eleven," the waitress said kindly.

"Thanks," Annie mumbled, raising her head to shoot her a gratified smile. She took a sip of the cool liquid, and felt about five times better. From now on, she was just going to ask for something delicious: this stuff was basically ambrosia.

For a few minutes, Annie was transported into a happy fuzz of fruit juice and bar music. Suddenly, though, her trance was broken by a sharp jolt that sent both her and her drink flying. Annie whipped around furiously ready to berate the clumsy fool who'd ruined her moment, and came face to face with a grinning blonde. He was so close Annie could smell the beer on his breath. She pulled back in disgust, and thankfully so did he, although he swayed a little as he did so. Before Annie could get a word in, his grin became even wider.

"Hey, you're hot!"

"Excuse me?"

"You're hottt!" He said again, sounding very proud of himself. Some of the guys at a table next to hers roared with laughter, and Annie figured they were his friends. In her experience, idiots tended to band together. On any other day, Annie would probably have thrown her drink on the drunkard and gotten the hell out of there. However, she was currently left drink-less thanks to said drunkard, and besides, she was feeling a little melodramatic.

"I know what I am thank you very much," she began coldly; "I'm beautiful, intelligent, and strong. I can speak five languages, and find my way around Bombai without a map. I've climbed Mount McKinley with a broken ankle and have eaten ghost chilies in Thailand," Annie took a deep breath to continue when another man stepped between her and Drunken Douchebag.

"Best of all, Conrad, she's taken, so run off back to your hole," said the new guy. Conrad rolled his eyes, and shoved the taller man out of the way. He reeled a bit as if Conrad's soft blow had caught him by surprise, and Annie figured that he too was drunk. Typical, she came in here for a bit of peace and quiet, and was assaulted by not one but two idiots.

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," she continued, shooting an acid glare at New Guy, "I can think of hundreds of words to describe myself. If the only one you can think to add to the list is _hot_, then our short and unhappy relationship ends here." With that, she turned away from a defeated-looking Conrad, and tried to focus on breathing slowly and calmly. A scattered chorus of jeers and "Shut _down_"s filtered across from Conrad's table, and Annie took a little pleasure from the idea that the jerk probably wouldn't try _that_ again for a while.

*******Why were men such jerks? She used to be one of the rare women who gave the male species the benefit of the doubt. And she had thought it had worked. But then Ben had skipped off to London to follow a dream job. She'd asked him why, and his only answer had been, "It's complicated". A coward's answer. So she felt entitled to her little internal rants whenever she had to deal with yet another jerk.

Speaking of which, she'd been so focused on remaining sane that she hadn't noticed New Guy (who was fast becoming old) sit down across from her. He was now staring placidly at a point just past her left ear, almost as if he was waiting for her to begin a rant he knew was coming. He wasn't grinning lewdly, and now that he was on her level, Annie noticed he wasn't the slightest bit drunk. He was simply waiting patiently, as if he would listen to anything she had to say for as long as she needed. It threw Annie, and anything mean she'd been planning sort of dissolved into a gooey warm feeling just below her breastbone. Still, she had to at least try to sound mean. She didn't need a knight in shining armor no matter how charming he seemed.

"You didn't need to do that," she began coolly, "and I don't mean that as a thank-you. Couldn't you see I had everything under control?"

A smile caught the corner of his mouth, and he waved a hand in front of his face. "Sorry, I really couldn't." Annie drew in a short breath, and suddenly understood why he was looking at her ear and not her face.

Without hesitation, he held out his hand, "Auggie Anderson, by the way."

Annie marveled for a second at how he'd managed to make her turn from angry to curious and slightly ashamed in under two seconds. Still, he'd made her feel like an idiot, and she really hated feeling like an idiot. She took his hand firmly and without hesitation. "Annie Walker. Can't say it's a pleasure." Then, knowing it was completely wrong, she folded her arms petulantly and said, "I really don't like people who give excuses. You could've at least heard that I had everything under control." Annie felt horrible the moment she said it, and was about to apologize profusely for crossing the line when Auggie's face cracked into the most amazing smile she'd ever seen. She was momentarily distracted by how dynamically he smiled: it was like his entire face was dancing, and his eyes – far from being dead – glowed warmly across at her (now focused rather charmingly on her nose).

He didn't register her discomfit (which Annie decided was a very good thing). "Well, I heard that you're beautiful, intelligent, and strong. And I also heard that you completely shut down Conrad Sheehan who's sort of the Jabba the Hut of this galaxy. That makes you the coolest person in this room."

Annie couldn't help it: she broke into a grin. "OK that's cheating. You can't use Star Wars references to win an argument, Auggie."

He shrugged, smirking. "I pretty much just did."

"I'm shooting you a dirty look right now," Annie replied while continuing to grin across at him.

"Sure you are. So not to sound completely creepy, but what's someone like you doing in a place like this? You don't really fit the profile."

Annie decided to play along. "I didn't know there was a profile."

Auggie looked sheepish, but Annie was pretty sure he was faking. Auggie didn't seem like the type of person to ever be sheepish.

"There isn't really. I was just trying to make creepy conversation. Otherwise known as normal male-female dialogue."

Annie cocked her head, "Yeah, creepy's definitely not a good color on you, Auggie. You're too sort of…" she trailed off not really sure what she was going to say.

Auggie grinned wolfishly, "Too what, Miss Walker?"

Oh no. He was _not_ going there. It didn't matter that he liked Star Wars and had made her laugh more in ten minutes than she had in ten days. He couldn't just sit down at her table and begin flirting with her.

"You're too much like a Saint Bernard. You know, rumpled hair, kind eyes, drool."

It was Auggie's turn to laugh. "I like you, Annie. You're more fun than most, and so far you haven't run away screaming just because I have a drooling problem."

Annie chuckled at the irony: for the past fourteen months, people had been calling her a spoilsport. They chatted on and on, and Annie no longer felt weird talking to a complete stranger. After all, Auggie _wasn't_ a stranger anymore. When she learned that he worked for Lockheed Martian as a computers guy, she drew her defunct laptop out of her bag and asked him to fix it. She hadn't expected a response, but he flipped the thing over, and after a minute or two really did have it running. Annie could've hugged him, but just then a sleek black-haired beauty appeared at their table. She turned on Auggie as if Annie didn't exist.

"You have some explaining to do mister. You've been gone for almost an hour!"

Auggie's face transformed instantly, as if hardening at her voice, "Liza."

"You leave me at your apartment and I roam the city for an hour looking for you. Where do I find you? At a BAR? With," here she gestured Annie, "that?"

Annie had felt awkward before - she was never too keen on being the third party to a fight – but now she was just annoyed. Who was this Liza person, and why was she entitled to call Annie a "that"?

"I was pretty clear when I left, Liza. I wanted you out of my house before I got home. I was just giving you plenty of time to get your stuff together."

Annie had had enough: no way was she getting involved in whatever this was. "Right, I'm just gonna leave you two to rip each other's throats out," she said, graciously offering Liza her chair. Auggie turned to her as best he could.

"There's really no need, Annie, Liza was just leaving." He said it with so much bitterness that Liza really did storm off, though not without shooting Annie a dirty look. Annie was a little afraid to sit back down, but Auggie looked so different than the relaxed geek of a minute ago. She swore that if she didn't do something drastic, he might cry. Annie didn't know the back story, but she didn't need to to know that she'd just seen a very ugly breakup. And Annie knew a little about ugly breakups.

"So… thanks for fixing my computer. That actually just saved me about four hours' work when I got home," Annie began a little awkwardly. Auggie didn't relax.

"That was Liza."

"Yep, I figured that much out," Annie replied, "You really don't have to tell me any more."

Auggie's eyes lightened a bit. "You're really cool, Annie. But I kind of owe you an explanation seeing as she just called you a 'that'."

"That was a bit uncalled for," Annie agreed placidly. If Auggie needed to talk, she wasn't going to stop him. He'd listened to her mini-rant about Ben earlier before she'd even figured out that she was spilling so much to him.

Auggie explained some of the bare details: Liza had been his girlfriend of five months when she started getting extremely suspicious of him. She kept accusing him of cheating on her when he didn't answer her calls.

"She kept asking, 'don't you see the effect you have on women?', and I said that would be pretty impossible considering the circumstances. Besides, I told her it wouldn't matter even if I _could_ see it. It wouldn't change how I felt about her," here Auggie trailed off, and Annie reached across the table to lay a comforting hand on his arm.

It turned out that Liza had actually been cheating on Auggie for three weeks. He'd found out last week, but hadn't had the courage to confront her until that evening.

"I swear it's not how it seems. I didn't just run to the nearest bar to pick up the first girl I found there. I was just walking past Conrad, and heard your exchange. I know him from work – he's my boss's son – and I decided that I'd had enough jerks for one evening… You can go now if you want, though." As he said that, Annie realized her Saint Bernard comment from earlier hadn't been that far off the mark. He looked like a wounded puppy.

"Why would I go anywhere, Aug? You cheered me up from the crappiest day I've had in a while. I kind of owe you one."

He smiled faintly at her. "Buy me a sandwich, and we'll call it even."

Annie slapped his arm playfully, "Auggie, if that was a 'woman go make me a sammich' reference, I swear…."

He looked confused, and then extremely panicked, "Oh – no, no, no, no, no! I just meant… Like, pay a sandwich as a debt…"

Annie laughed, "Don't worry, dufus, I know what you meant."

Auggie looked relieved. "Why don't you just pass the peanuts, and we'll call it even." Annie smiled and slid the bowl of nuts across to him. "At your eleven," she said, remembering the waitress from earlier. As she did so, though, she caught sight of her watch. 7:50. Shit! Dinner was at 8, and she had to find transport to her sister's house.

"Auggie, please tell me you know someone with a very fast car!"

"Why? Is Conrad coming back?"

"No, no. I have this thing – My sister – God, she's gonna kill me!" Annie jumped up, frantically stuffing her computer back in her bag.

Auggie reached out and found her arm. His hand steadied her, and his voice restored in her some semblance of calm. "Annie, first tell me where you need to be."

"My sister holds these dinners on Thursdays, and I have to be there in ten minutes, and – oh shit – she's probably set me up again with some weirdo from her PTA group. Do you know – she's tried to make me go on a blind date for four Thursdays in a row now?" Annie realized she was freaking out again, and trailed off.

"Geez, Annie, breathe. I have a car service if you really need to be somewhere."

Annie looked up at him wondering if she should hug him.

"Yeah, yeah. I know I'm awesome," Auggie's said into her shoulder. Well, Annie thought, that solves the hug question.

"I'll call them now – they should be here in about five minutes. Can you show me to the door? I didn't bring my cane."

Annie did as she was instructed, and led Auggie out onto the street. They continued talking while they were waiting: Auggie decided to drop Annie off and go home himself to play damage-control with Liza. But as they talked, a plan began forming in the back of Annie's mind. It slowly floated to the front, and – before she could stop herself – out her mouth.

"Hey, Auggie," she began, "you know how my sister keeps setting me up with weirdos? And you know how you're an awesome person? This is going to sound strange because I've only known you for an hour, but do you want to save me from the weirdo?"

Auggie paused and then looked at her with an amused expression. "As in, save you from a blind date by _being_ your blind date?"

Annie shifted uncomfortably. It did sound awfully like a date. She didn't want it to be – not like that, at least. Auggie had just broken up an hour ago for goodness sakes. But for some reason, just being near him made her feel safe and smiley, and she knew that Danielle's dinner would be a thousand times more bearable if he was there.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. But just as a friend. To save me from Anonymous Weirdo," she added in a small voice, "please?"

Auggie grinned as the car pulled up. Feeling for the door, and ushering Annie in first, he replied, "Well, since you asked so nicely, sure. Keep in mind, though, I'm mostly doing it for the free food."

Annie slid across the seats, and as the car pulled out into traffic, thought contentedly that the day wasn't so crappy after all. She'd just met her new best friend.

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***** While I was writing, I got a bit carried away at this point. I've added my sidetrack as a third part because I liked it.**


	3. Extra

**Surprise! Extra stuff. I liked this crazy back story that I gave Annie, but it really didn't fit in the oneshot. It's a little bit unrealistic, but I liked making Ben the crazy ass that he is.**

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Why were men such jerks? She used to be one of the rare women who gave the male species the benefit of the doubt. And she had thought it had worked. She'd found Ben: sweet, handsome, adventurous. They'd traveled together after college, and had finally made their way back to DC. She'd known he was someone whom kind people termed a free spirit and not-so-kind people termed trouble, but she'd given him the benefit of the doubt all the same. There was an apartment, a job, even talk of engagement. And then there was a note on the kitchen table explaining that he'd made an emergency flight to England to look into "the job of a lifetime". She called him thinking the note a joke: maybe he was buying them a late dinner; maybe it was an excuse for his absence while he set some sort of cute proposal plan in action. He didn't pick up, but he called her back at seven the next morning asking why she'd called him at two AM. Didn't she know that England was five hours ahead of DC?

"Yeah, Ben, I did," she replied, desperately trying to keep the quiver from her voice, "I just thought you'd have warned me before skipping off the England."

"It was really short notice. Besides, I wasn't sure I could convince you to move here unless I was already gone."

She'd dropped the phone at that point, and had to press redial to get him back online.

"You want me to MOVE THERE? Like, leave my job, my family, my house just to follow you to a foreign country so that you can have your 'job of a lifetime'?" She was no longer trying to hold it together – she was screaming into the phone.

"Annie, just listen OK? It's complicated –"

"No, Ben," she cut him off, "it's really not. Either you come home and talk to me like a normal person or you stay there without me." Even as she gave the ultimatum, she was giving him the benefit of the doubt. He'd come home. She'd be able to talk sense into him. But as the week dragged on, doubt crept in. He'd called again, asking her to ship some stuff over: he'd found an apartment. He hadn't even mentioned their earlier conversation: maybe to him it really wasn't worth mentioning. At some point, he'd tire of the London job and come back to her and everything would be OK. But Annie got tired of waiting. She had blocked his calls, and sold the rest of his stuff to various organizations.

In the back of her mind, though, she never stopped waiting. It didn't mean that Ben was forgiven: it just meant that she was too weak or maybe too in love to let go entirely. When people offered hollow consolations, she would smile politely, saying that it was OK – she enjoyed being single.

After a while, her words began to sound a little truer. And fourteen months (plus twenty one days) later, she had managed to convince herself to move on. She wasn't going to get burned again. That didn't mean, though, that she felt any less angry after dealing with a douchebag. Any fight with a guy would probably always remind her of that first one.

* * *

**_Thanks for sticking out till the end of this abomination to the story world!_**


End file.
